


The way you say good morning

by Nakeycatstakebaths



Series: In a World of their Own: Bellarke Rom-Com AUs [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Finn is def an asshole in this one sorry, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Home Again AU, Kid Fic, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Single Mom Clarke, dummies to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakeycatstakebaths/pseuds/Nakeycatstakebaths
Summary: Based loosely on the movie Home AgainStill reeling from her failed marriage, Clarke Griffin packs up her two daughters and takes them to the only place she has left to go—home.Arkadia, Maine is exactly how she left it, small, uneventful, and packed full of things that Clarke would rather forget. But when she meets three filmmakers who are determined to keep her father’s legacy alive, it feels like her luck just might be starting to change.Three bumbling documentarians, two little girls, and a divorcee don’t exactly make a conventional family, but somehow, it seems to work for them.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: In a World of their Own: Bellarke Rom-Com AUs [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1544413
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ninappon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninappon/gifts).



> Written for one of my favorite fandom people, who has been such an incredible, lovely, supportive friend since I've started writing. Thank you for trusting me with this awesome prompt Nina, much love to you always.

Arkadia, Maine, hadn’t changed one bit since Clarke was in high school. It felt frozen in time, a hazy homage to a simpler, slower fisherman’s village. 

The shopfronts peeled with the wear of the salty air, and local kids skid by on their rollerblades, much like she had when she was a kid. 

“We should get you a pair of those,” Clarke said, patting her daughter on the leg as they drove past a crew of teenagers. 

“Yeah, no thanks,” Charlotte replied, not even bothering to remove her AirPods before turning back to the stare blankly out the window. 

Clarke tried not to take the snub personally, she knew that the divorce had been hard on Charlotte and that she wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of starting eighth grade at a small school in the middle of nowhere. 

But it wasn’t as if they had a choice. 

Finn didn’t seem to want to make things easy on her, which meant staying in New York wasn’t an option. 

Not to mention that Clarke desperately needed a change of pace, even if it meant staying in her father’s old house and forcing her kids to move to a coastal village. 

A fresh start was exactly what they all needed. It would be weird at first, but all of this would seem like a fond memory with time. 

At least she hoped so. 

Sometimes it felt like Clarke could never get anything right, that she was just doomed to make mistake after mistake until she died. The guilt of having to make a significant change, of uprooting her kids from the home they’d known for their entire lives, it stung her down to her core. 

When she ran away from Arkadia to go to college, she promised herself she would never come back. And yet—she’d returned. 

She couldn’t keep doing this.

Which meant this one had to stick, even if it meant taking the brunt of her daughter’s anger. 

“I like it here!” Madi announced, giving names to each of the decorative plastic fish that they passed on the drive. 

50% of her kids were happy, and for now, that would have to do. 

Especially since they were about to spend the rest of the evening with Clarke’s mother. 

Abby Griffin meant well, hell, she’d rearranged her entire life to ensure their family would have a smooth transition back to Arkadia, but she had a tendency to get invasively involved in Clarke’s life. 

Especially her love life. 

And now that she was about to be officially divorced, it would be open season. 

As she pulled into the cobblestone driveway, Clarke hoped that age had finally brought Abby the sense to stop setting Clarke up with random men from the sailing club. 

But considering the two cars parked in the driveway, she was in for a very long evening. One that she didn’t feel equipped to handle after an entire day of driving in a cramped car. 

“Who’s here?” Madi asked, pointing to the other cars while Clarke unstrapped her from the booster seat. 

“Well, the fancy car belongs to Uncle Wells and his dad Mr. Jaha. But I don’t know the other one,” Clarke explained, helping Madi climb out of the car. 

“I bet it’s some weirdo that grandma wants mom to date. Do you remember the freaky guy with the mustache she brought to Thanksgiving?” Charlotte snickered, analyzing her reflection in the side mirror. 

“Char, don’t be rude. Ronald was—unique,” Clarke explained, knowing that her chastising didn’t sound very convincing. 

Whoever owned that car definitely would add a twist to whatever her mother had planned. But why exactly Abby was averse to a simple family dinner was yet to be determined. 

***

  
The table had very subtly been arranged so that Madi could sit directly beside her favorite uncle Wells, who she could adoringly ask questions and tell jokes to. Charlotte pointedly seated herself between Abby and Thelonious, ignoring Clarke in favor of comparing her grandmother’s job to plotlines from Grey’s Anatomy. 

This left Clarke to very awkwardly chat with Gabriel Santiago, an admittedly handsome man who she’d dissected a frog with in high school biology. 

“So, does your mother do this a lot? Set you up with random guys?” Gabriel chuckled, draining the last of his wine glass. 

He uncorked the bottle and poured another serving for himself as well as one for Clarke. 

“Yeah, I got separated last year, and it’s become her favorite pastime ever since. The divorce is getting finalized soon, so umm—I think she felt another prospect would be timely.” 

“Moving on can be tough. You’re lucky she cares so much…” he shrugged, giving her a soft closed-mouthed smile. One that under any other circumstance, Clarke would have found endearing. 

“Are you divorced as well?” She asked, knowing that most attractive single men her age came with the experience of a previous marriage. 

There was a long silence as Gabriel took another sip of wine, just hefty enough to cue Clarke that she’d said something wrong. 

“I’m a widower. Just a little over six months now,” he replied, sounding a bit choked up. 

And Clarke felt a heavy pang of guilt. This man wasn’t single, he was grieving and struggling, and now he would be stuck at the end of the table with her for the rest of the night. 

She couldn’t believe her mother could be so tone-deaf. 

“I’m so sorry, and I’m even more sorry that my mom put you in this position…” 

“It’s okay. She was just trying to help. But uh—you kind of look like my late wife, and it’s a little weird for me, to be honest,” Gabriel shrugged, clearly trying to seem unaffected as he picked at his chicken breast. 

Clarke didn’t know how to reply. How could she respond to something like this appropriately? She wanted to melt into her seat and disappear. 

At least the girls seemed happy. 

“Look, this isn’t your fault. We can hang out. It’ll be okay,” Gabriel assured, looking between Clarke and the other two adults at the table. 

She didn’t want to make a scene. Not when Gabriel worked for Thelonious and her mom. It would make his life more difficult, and obviously, he didn’t need that on top of everything else. 

So Clarke tried her best to make awkward small talk, even though the conversation never really recovered from Gabriel comparing her to his dead wife. 

Finally, after three courses and dessert, they moved to the living room, and Clarke finally found a way to seat herself beside Wells and away from her date. 

“So, how’s it going?” Wells asked, wiggling his eyebrows and tilting his head toward Gabriel and her mom. 

Madi curled up in Clarke’s lap, rubbing the back of her ear like she always did when she was tired. 

“He told me that I looked like his dead wife,” she explained, keeping her voice low enough that Madi wouldn’t be able to overhear. “And apparently not in a good way.” 

Wells winced, pressing his hand over his mouth as he suppressed a snort. 

“Now that you mention it. You do look a little bit like Josephine,” he whispered, reaching out to push Madi’s hair away from her face. “This has got to be the worst date yet.” 

“You forgot about the snaggletooth guy,” Charlotte chuckled, appearing out of nowhere just in time to squeeze between Wells and the arm of the couch. “At least this one is cute.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes, debating whether to chastise her daughter before she decided to just let it go. Now was not the time for fights. 

“If I take Madi to sleep in the guest room, can I stay up to watch the new Riverdale episode?” Charlotte asked, pointing to an already sleeping Madi. 

Even though she and Finn had agreed Riverdale wasn’t the most appropriate show for a middle schooler, Clarke knew that agreeing would win her a few brownie points. Brownie points she desperately needed. Plus, it wasn’t like Finn would ever find out. He didn’t seem particularly interesting in being involved in their lives from here on out. 

“Sure, just make sure you take her shoes off,” Clarke agreed, helping ease Madi off her lap and into her sister’s arms. 

And Charlotte smiled at Clarke for the first time since they left New York, adjusting Madi’s too-large body against her hip. 

“Goodnight, mom, goodnight, uncle Wells,” she called, blowing a kiss to Abby as she disappeared back toward the bedrooms.

“I know she’s not thrilled about being here. But she is a good kid,” Wells smiled, sinking back into the cushions. 

“She’s a great kid, and I’ve put her through a lot of shit lately, so I hope this move is the right choice,” Clarke sighed, voicing her worries for the first time. 

“You’re home now. We’re all going to help you,” Wells continued, patting her on the knee fondly. “Which means I’m not going to let you sink into some sort of sad depression slump just because you’re divorced. Finn was a jackass anyway—he always has been.” 

Clarke sighed, knowing that her best friend was right. She hadn’t exactly been feeling her best lately. Getting cheated on had a way of completely tanking your self-esteem. She’d been so down and miserable that she’d barely had the energy to do her job, let alone put on makeup or do her hair. 

“Abby can watch the kids. Why don’t you come with me to the restaurant? I’ll make you an Aperol Spritz on the house, like the good old days,” he urged, taking her back to their high school days when Wells just worked at the pizza shop—before he bought the place from the old owners. Clarke would come to hang out every day after school, and he would make her a virgin Aperol Spritz. 

Those were some of her favorite high school memories, the kind that made her heartache at how simple that joy was. 

Perhaps it would be just what Clarke needed to feel like herself again. 

***

  
The Salty SeaLion still had the same red leather chairs and polished plastic tabletops. The walls were lined with high school sports photos and headshots of local celebrities, and being here again made Clarke feel like she was seventeen again. 

She’d gotten dressed up for the first time in weeks, curled her hair, put on makeup, and even though the restaurant was mostly empty, it still felt good to look like a person again. 

“I’ll get your drink and a couple slices of pizza. For old time’s sake,” Wells called, waving for Clarke to sit down anywhere she liked. 

From over her shoulder, she could hear Wells greeting his wife, Raven, and filling her in on the night's events. 

It made something in her chest pang, a reminder that even though things felt the same, they weren’t the same people they were in high school. Everyone moved on. They’d grown up and gotten married, had kids. Things wouldn’t be the same this time. The innocence that Clarke once associated with this town was long gone. 

Things would be okay, though. She would get used to being alone, to her best friend being married, and her mom becoming a more significant part of her life. 

And if they didn’t turn out okay, at least she was very far away from New York. 

“Clarke Griffin? Oh my God,” a voice called, just after the door chimed to announce a new customer. 

Clarke whipped her head up, just in time to see a tall, thin, dark-haired man walk up to her table. 

She didn’t recognize him at first and spent the first few seconds studying him in silence, trying to place where she’d seen him before. 

“Jasper! Holy shit, I didn’t realize you were home!” Wells yelled, leaving the cocktails on the order counter before jogging over to hug the man. 

And then it clicked. 

Jasper Jordan looked older, less nerdy, and more filled out. Definitely, a far cry from the skinny kid with goggles pushed into his hair, but his face was unmistakably the same. 

Clarke greeted him as well, surprised he’d recognized her after all these years. They hadn’t spoken much outside of Harper and Monty. 

“It’s good to see you again,” Jasper said warmly, and then he stepped aside to reveal two men behind him that Clarke hadn’t seen when he first walked in. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one making a return after a decade or so.” 

“I’m sure your reasons are far more glamorous than mine,” she teased, understanding how the rumor mill worked in their thumbnail of a town. Everyone’s mother had already told them about her impending divorce. 

Jasper laughed along with her, lighthearted enough that she knew it wasn’t backhanded. He seemed like the kind of person Clarke would like to be friends with, and she wondered why they hadn’t been closer in high school. 

Maybe now would be her chance to make some new friends, better friends than the ones she’d had in the city. 

“Depends on your definition of glamorous, we’re here to do a documentary on the lobster fishing industry and the generational traditions that come with it,” he explained, pointing toward himself and his two friends. “I direct, Murphy over there does all the film, and Bellamy handles research.” 

Clarke nodded at each of them as Jasper explained, but her eyes caught on the tallest one, standing the furthest away. 

He was—staggeringly attractive. Perhaps the hottest man Clarke had ever seen, but in an unassuming nerdy way. Something so endearing about his dark, thick curls and black-rimmed glasses, all tied together with a classic white cable knit sweater. 

To her embarrassment, he caught her gaze and flashed her a smile that made her heart stop for a fraction of a second. 

“Guys, this is Clarke Griffin. We go way back, like kindergarten back. She’s an artist,” Jasper continued, gesturing between her and the boys before he took a seat across from her at the table. 

The other two followed, and of course, Bellamy ended up with his chair packed closely beside Clarke’s because the universe couldn’t give her a break. 

He smelled like warm musky cologne, and his smile was even better up close. Between the butterflies in her stomach and the setting, it was really starting to feel like high school all over again. 

“I’m sorry to ask, but is your dad Jake Griffin?” Bellamy asked, adjusting his chair so they could face one another more comfortably. 

And Clarke’s eyebrows flew up to her airline. Nobody brought up her dad to her anymore. His documentaries were classics, but they’d been eclipsed by bigger-budgeted productions made for streaming platforms. It warmed her heart to hear somebody bring up his work again, like it kept his memory alive somehow. 

“Yeah, he was the greatest. In my totally biased opinion,” she replied, taking an orange-filled glass from Wells, grateful to have something to do with her hands. 

“He’s one of my personal heroes. Subcultures are a passion of mine, largely because of his work. It’s truly incredible stuff. They don’t make content like that anymore,” Bellamy grinned, taking a sip of his own drink, and Clarke thought she might actually explode from the sparkle in his eyes. 

It felt good to be attracted to someone again, to feel the tension of potential with a stranger. At least her body could still do things in the right circumstance. She wasn’t broken after years of miserable marriage. 

“Really? That means the world to hear honestly. He would’ve passed out if he heard you say that,” she chuckled, knowing it was the truth and hoping that her dad heard Bellamy’s words somewhere out in the universe. “I’m guessing that’s how you ended up in our sleepy little town out of all the places in the world.” 

“Well yeah, that and of course, Jasper being from here. It’s easier to film somewhere when you know the lay of the land.” 

They chatted back and forth throughout dinner about the town and its history and Clarke’s dad’s work. By the end of the night, she’d somehow offered to show the guys some of her dad’s old tapes, the ones that she’d kept stored in the cottage. 

“You really don’t mind?” Bellamy asked, his arm now swung across the back of Clarke’s chair. “Don’t feel like you have to just because I said all that stuff earlier.” 

But she shook her head, glad to have the chance to finally dig through some of her dad’s old memories again. 

“I don’t mind at all. It’ll be fun.” 

***

  
Clarke had just finished emptying all of the old boxes in the sunroom with the doorbell rang. Before she could answer it herself, she could hear the thud of footsteps and Charlotte’s surly greeting. 

Sadly, her older daughter’s truce was short-lived, and she’d returned back to her sulky ways the day they unpacked. 

Perhaps the distraction of new guests, ones who came with a large camera and stories of making documentaries about remote cultures, would help add some zest to Charlotte’s disposition. 

Clarke smoothed down her hair in the mirror, knowing there wasn’t much use with the salt in the air from the ocean. It always made her curls look a little crispy. 

She arrived at the door just in time to see Madi sit directly on top of Murphy’s feet and give him her best adorable five-year-old gap-toothed smile. 

“You’re silly,” she announced, looking up at him and wrapping an arm around his leg. 

“Why am I silly?” Murphy asked, raising a single eyebrow as he looked down at the top of Madi’s tiny head. 

“I don’t know. You just are,” Madi shrugged, not bothering to release her hold. “Do you wanna be friends?” 

Jasper snorted, covering his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing out loud, and Bellamy seemed to be trying his absolute best to keep himself upright.

“I don’t think we would make very good friends…” Murphy said carefully, shooting Bellamy a side-eyed death glare. 

“But why?” Madi fired back, clearly unimpressed with the answer. 

“We just wouldn’t.” 

“But why?” 

“Because.” 

“Because why?” 

“Because I’m tall, and you’re small,” He tried again, patting the top of his head and then hers. 

“But that’s good because you can carry me and help me reach the princess goldfish,” she continued, seemingly unbothered by the back and forth. 

Murphy rubbed a thumb against his temple, and Bellamy finally lost it, his shoulders shaking with pure glee as he watched the exchange between his friend and Clarke’s younger daughter. 

“Madi, why don’t we let Mr. Murphy come all the way inside because you make him carry you,” Clarke urged gently, bending to try and pry her child from around Murphy’s leg. 

She had absolutely no idea why Madi had randomly taken such a liking to him. 

But Madi didn’t budge. 

“No. He’s my friend,” she announced, holding firm. 

And perhaps it was her confidence that finally pushed Murphy over the edge because he scooped her up and helped her climb onto his shoulders. 

“I guess we’re friends now,” he agreed, wincing when Madi grabbed one of his ears by accident. “Except I don’t know your name.” 

“My name is Madison Marie Griffin-Collins,” she announced proudly and pointed at Charlotte. “And that’s my sister Charlotte Evelyn Griffin-Collins.” 

The middle and last names were a bit much, but Clarke was glad that the move and all the changes hadn’t dulled her youngest’s spirit. 

Charlotte looked less than impressed, just held her hand up in a halfhearted wave before turning and vanishing back toward the kitchen. 

“Your daughter is my hero,” Bellamy said, bumping their shoulders together. “I’ve never seen Murphy cave so quickly.” 

“She has an unbelievable amount of charm for such a tiny person. I would bet money that she’s already convinced Murphy to get her the princess goldfish,” Clarke agreed, letting the back of her hand brush Bellamy’s as they followed the crowd into the kitchen. 

Madi finally agreed to let go of Murphy after two bowls of princess goldfish and promise that he would watch an episode of Paw Patrol with her after his meeting. 

“Thanks for being a good sport about that. I appreciate it,” Clarke said, genuinely grateful that he had been so patient and kind. “She’s been having a rough go at it, so it's always nice to see her smile.” 

“Kids normally hate me. It’s a nice change. Usually, Bellamy is the one that they’re using as a jungle gym,” he shrugged, pulling out his phone and showing Clarke a handful of pictures of Guatemalan children swinging from Bellamy’s arm. 

That, of course, only intensified her crush more. 

He really just kept getting more and more endearing. 

The boys talked about their travels, their first documentary that received critical acclaim at Sundance, and their hopes that they could repeat their success with an in-depth look at generational lobster fishing. 

“Well, it would make my dad so happy to know that people still care about Arkadia so much,” Clarke said, using it as a segue to guide the guys to the sunroom. 

Bellamy lit up immediately, waiting for a look of confirmation from her before he dove into the books and stills and notebooks that lay strewn across the floor. 

At some point, he extracted a pair of glasses from his pocket and began jotting down notes from the books on his phone. 

“He’s definitely the nerd of the group,” Jasper chuckled, sitting down on the old piano bench to flip through a photo album. “Which is a nice change from high school where I was always the nerd.” 

“You could always bring back the goggles if you really miss it,” Clarke teased, tearing her gaze away from Bellamy to sit beside Jasper. 

“Please don’t mention the goggles in front of Murphy. He will quite literally never let it go.” 

“I had red hair for like a year. We all had our moments,” she said, thinking back to a time she hadn’t let herself revisit in decades. The hair color really was awful. Deep red wasn’t her color, at least not when it was on her head. 

They spent a warm afternoon thumbing through her dad’s legacy, bringing it back to life and revisiting all the things that made his career so special. 

It made Clarke’s heart ache with grief. She tried not to think about her dad too much. He’d been her favorite person in the world and losing him was part of what kept her from returning home until now. 

And being back in his house, surrounded by his things, seeing the traces of him while knowing that he would never appear around the corner—it brought back pain that Clarke hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

But going through these things with other people, knowing that she wasn’t the only one who cared, made his legacy feel memorable and important. 

“He was truly an incredible researcher,” Bellamy breathed reverently, flipping through a page filled with intricate diagrams of whales. He nudged Clarke in the shoulder as he showed her the page and then kept his arm close while they looked at the rest of the book together. 

She’d been dreading this since she first unlocked the door, but it turned out to be a pretty good day in the end. 

“I might have googled you...not in a creepy way, just in an I was looking up your dad, and your Wikipedia page was linked. And uhh, if you combined this research with your art, it would make a beautiful book,” Bellamy said sheepishly, not quite meeting her eyes as he spoke. 

Clarke could see a faint pink spreading across his cheeks, a blush that indicated that he might actually be just as nervous as her. 

“That’s really sweet. I, uhh, have been thinking about that a lot, actually. Not publishing a book necessarily, but a career reset of some sort. Maybe teaching or something,” she hadn’t admitted that to anyone yet. Still, somehow, despite being a relative stranger, he felt like the right person to tell. 

“If teaching is your dream, you should go for it,” he grinned, reaching out to wrap a hand around her bicep, and it felt like a moment—

Until Charlotte’s voice rang through the hallways, “Moooom! Grandma is here!” 

Shit. 

So much for their calm and relaxing evening. 

***

  
There was so much food laid out on the dining room table that it almost seemed like Abby could sense the number of people waiting for her at the cottage. 

“Grandma, make sure you cut an extra big piece for my new friend Murphy,” Madi urged, patting Murphy on the arm from her place atop a chair. 

And to Clarke’s complete shock, Murphy raised an eyebrow at her daughter and then tilted his head toward Abby. 

“Please and thank you, grandma.” 

“I can’t believe that Murphy not only befriended my child but also considers himself responsible for her manners. It’s kind of sweet,” Clarke chuckled, piling a serving of salad onto her own plate. 

“It’s sickeningly sweet. He wasn’t joking when he said he usually doesn’t like kids. This is a rarity,” Jasper agreed, pouring cups of pop for himself and for her. 

They sat down to dinner, and Clarke didn’t know if it was on purpose or a happy accident, but she ended up sandwiched beside Bellamy. 

He still smelled musky and clean, but it was tinged now with the warmth of old books and the slight hint of paper and dust. The proximity of his body to hers, the heat of his skin—it made it hard to focus on the food or on the conversation. 

“So, are you boys staying with Jasper’s parents?” Abby asked, cutting primly into a breadstick with a fork and knife. 

“No, we were planning on it, but they sold the house when they retired and didn’t tell me. We stayed at the inn last night, but we’re looking for an Airbnb or something, so it’s more long-term,” Jasper explained, very obviously trying to resist the urge to eat with his mouth open. 

And the moment the words left his mouth, Clarke could see the wheels turning in her mother’s head. 

Oh no. 

A slow, ecstatic smile filled Abby’s face, and before Clarke could stop her, she put her knife and fork down. 

“We have a guest house out back. It has two and a half bedrooms, one bathroom, and a cute little kitchenette. It would be the perfect place for you to stay while you plan your movie, right on the water too,” Abby exclaimed, shooting a sly glance at Clarke that indicated there was more to this than charitable love for the arts. 

The whole group fell silent, and all three boys turned to look at Clarke. 

She knew it was a big offer for them, that they would be able to make so much more progress without the added expense and inconvenience of a hotel. 

It would be selfish to let her feelings for Bellamy stand in the way of that. 

“Yeah, that’s a great idea. I was just telling Charlotte today that it’s a shame all that space is being wasted,” Clarke agreed, beaming when Jasper jumped up in excitement and pumped his fist in the air. 

Maybe this would be good for her, a nice change of pace and some new friends to add to the mix. 

It didn’t need to be complicated if she didn’t make it complicated. 

***  
 _One Week Later_

“Baby, c’mon. It’s going to be great. You’re cool. You’re from New York. Everyone is going to want to be your friend. This is a new adventure,” Clarke said softly, sliding down against the side of the shed. 

Charlotte remained unconvinced, and the music from Jake’s old record player continued to blare through the thin walls. 

This was not a good start to their first Monday in Arkadia. 

The first days of school are never easy, and starting at a new school in a new town seemed to have paralyzed Charlotte with fear. 

“Everyone here has known each other since kindergarten. I heard you and Jasper talking about it! They’re going to think I’m a weirdo,” she snapped, turning down the music just enough that her voice could be heard through the door. 

And honestly, Clarke didn’t know how to respond—because it was true. 

Arkadia was small and tight-knit. The kids around here had probably never encountered a new student in their lives. 

But hopefully, that would turn things in Charlotte’s favor. 

Clarke wished she could make this easier somehow, that she could transport all of their New York people here to this tiny town. But there wasn’t another option right now. This was it. 

At least Madi seemed happy, prancing around in her new school sweater and overalls, trying to goad Murphy and Jasper into braiding her hair for her. 

“Mommy is busy with Charlotte. I can’t go to kindergarten with messy hair,” she argued, pointing to her still messy curls. 

Ugly hair or not, the excitement was cute, and Clarke was glad that she only had one problem to deal with at a time. 

“It will be cool. You’ll get to write again, and you love writing!” She continued, even though this was seeming more and more useless. 

“I can’t show them my writing! They’re strangers!” Charlotte yelled, so loudly that she didn’t even need to turn down the music. 

Clarke pressed the heel of her hands into her eyes, hard enough that she started to see stars, and when she opened them, Bellamy appeared from behind the gate. 

Shirtless, shining with a light layer of sweat, and holding a flat cardboard box. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, studying her face as he offered a hand to help her up. 

She took it gratefully, glad to have a distraction to quell her guilt and frustration. Her daughter was miserable and anxious, and it was her fault. 

“Just some first day of school nerves,” she replied, raising her eyebrows to suggest that things were not as cute and casual as she was making it seem. 

Bellamy nodded, lifting up the box again and tilting the lid up. 

“Would donuts help?” He asked, smiling brightly before he moved to knock at the shed door. 

“I told you to leave me alo—“ Charlotte snapped, but before she could continue, Bellamy interrupted. 

“It’s just Bellamy. I brought breakfast. There are donuts and eclairs and something with a smiley face on it that looks kind of cool,” he said, obviously trying to keep his tone casual. “I can put one on a napkin and slide it under the door, but it might get a little squished.” 

There was another long pause of silence, and then, amazingly, the door creaked open. A red-eyed Charlotte appeared, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. 

“I only came out because I was hungry, okay?” She said, looking at the box of donuts with a faint smile. 

“Let’s go check these out then,” Bellamy grinned, placing a gentle hand on Charlotte’s shoulder as he guided her back into the house. 

The issue at hand hadn’t been solved in the slightest, but Clarke was just relieved that her daughter had decided to leave the shed. 

All thanks to Bellamy, who’d miraculously swung to the rescue. 

Shirtless, no less. 

He definitely wasn’t making this whole self-control thing easy on her. 

***

  
Madi’s hair was twisted into two neat and perfectly done braids. 

“How did you—“ Clarke marveled, running a finger down the side of her daughter’s head. 

“I had long hair in college,” Jasper explained, running a hand through his closely cropped hair. “I’m a little rusty, but I think Miss Madi looks pretty good.” 

And it really did look impressively good. Clarke couldn't have done better herself. 

The donuts served as a perfect warm-up for the first day of school, leaving Madi with a bright smile and Charlotte less surly than before. 

“How do you feel about getting dressed?” she asked carefully, sitting beside her daughter at the now empty table. 

“A little better. Bellamy and I talked about new schools, and he told me that the best part about starting in a new place is that you get to totally reinvent yourself,” Charlotte said, picking at the last of her donut. “Did you know he went to eight different schools? And he said that he pretended to have a British accent for an entire year one time.” 

Clarke laughed to herself, her feelings for Bellamy flaring up once again. Somehow he’d managed to say the right thing to make Charlotte feel better, and that meant the world. 

And it wasn’t just Bellamy. Jasper had braided Madi’s hair, and Murphy washed all the dishes, and for the first time in a very long time, Clarke felt a little less alone. 

Three random guys who’d appeared out of nowhere, had somehow brought her exactly what she needed. 

She wasn’t sure if she could have made it through this morning without them. 

***

  
In Jake Griffin’s obituary, they’d recounted all of his film successes, all the beautiful work he’d done in the name of natural preservation. They’d also written a short blurb about Clarke and an even shorter blurb about Abby and their tumultuous marriage. 

Her father had always told Clarke that she was the love of his life, that being a dad was the closest thing he would ever have to true happiness. It always made her a bit sad. She’d wanted him to have love, to have a well-rounded life. 

But what she hadn’t understood at the time was that well-rounded was incredibly difficult to come by. 

She’d thought she found it when she met Finn and had the girls, but it all came crumbling down when she discovered her husband in bed with the President of the PTA and realized he had a drinking problem a few months later. 

The life she thought she built fell apart in a matter of weeks, and it ripped the rug out from under her daughters’ feet. 

And the worst part was, she hadn’t even given them a good father in the process. 

It wasn’t that Finn was a bad dad, he loved their kids, and when he was good, he was really good. But lately, it seemed like that version of Finn was long gone, and Clarke didn’t know how to explain that to a five-year-old and a twelve-year-old. 

All the things Clarke set out to do as a child had failed—except becoming a mother.

Her children had, in fact, turned out to be the love of her life, and she didn’t regret it for even a second. 

Those were the two precious things she’d done right. 

But with all the drama from their move, she’d felt like a pretty bad mom lately, too. 

She just needed a break, a few moments of peace. So she climbed out of her dad’s truck and laid in the cool grass. 

The best thing about Maine was the clean coastal air and the bright blue sky, peppered with clouds that seemed straight out of a movie. And staring up at them now took Clarke straight back to her childhood, to a time when all her dreams felt possible. 

And perhaps they still were. 

Bellamy’s advice to Charlotte had been more profound than he probably realized. 

She needed to stop viewing this move as a failure—it was a fresh start, a chance to completely reinvent herself. 

This was her chance to be a better mom, to pursue her art career, and reconnect with the town she’d left behind. 

All Clarke had to do was get her confidence back first. 

“Quite the morning, huh?” Bellamy said, coming up beside her and lowering himself into the grass. 

“I’ve been doing this by myself for a while now. But I forgot how much easier things are when you have help,” she sighed, adjusting so that he could lie down beside her. 

And he did, pressing their arms together as he joined her in staring up at the clouds. 

“Your kids are awesome, like way cooler than most kids. We’re happy to help out.” 

“They are pretty cool. But understandably, they’re freaked out and majorly pissed at me. At least Charlotte is.” 

Bellamy nodded, tilting his head so he could look at her, bangs falling onto his forehead in the process. 

Despite knowing she shouldn’t, Clarke reached out and pushed the hair out of his eyes. 

“I had a mom who did everything to give me a better life. I spent a lot of my childhood being pissed about it, but now I wish I go back and tell her how much I love her,” he continued, eyes drifting closed as her fingers massaged his scalp. “They'll appreciate all this someday, I promise.” 

Bellamy did seem pretty well adjusted for someone who moved eight times as a kid, and it gave Clarke a little hope that maybe he was right. 

“If they turn out as good as you did, I’ll consider myself lucky,” she said, blushing when she realized how forward it sounded. 

But he just laughed and inched even closer. They were barely a hair apart now, bodies pressed together so tightly that Clarke was pretty sure he could feel her thudding heart through her shirt. 

“They’re off to a pretty good start,” he murmured, mirroring her earlier action by tucking one of her curls behind her ear. 

It felt like they might kiss, the air between them sparking with tension. 

Clarke couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this about someone, the last time someone made her body feel like it was alive, like she might die if he didn’t kiss her right now. 

But before either of them could move, the crunch of gravel crackled behind them, and Jasper’s Jeep pulled into the driveway. 

And just like that, the moment was gone. 

***

  
Fueling off her momentum from earlier, Clarke left a little earlier than usual to pick up the girls and stopped at the art store she’d once lingered in as a teenager. 

The same older woman sat behind the counter, greyer around the temples but otherwise untouched by time. She greeted her with a warm smile and chatted with Clarke about the local art scene, pointing out one of Clarke’s sketches that hung on the back wall. 

“I can’t believe you kept that,” she chuckled, looking longingly at a charcoal sketch she’d done of a fishing boat in high school.

“How could I not? I’ve read about your pieces in the art magazines. This one is a classic,” the shopkeeper teased, leaning forward against the counter. 

They talked about the school art program and its struggling budget, the lack of money the town had been facing for the past decade. 

The fishing industry wasn’t what it used to be, and there just weren’t as many people coming around anymore. 

“Makes me sad for the kids. They’re really missing out.” 

And this was her chance, the one she’d been convincing herself to take all day. 

“Are you looking for help by chance? You don’t have to pay me or anything, but I would love to host some classes here on the weekends,” Clarke offered, delighted when her suggestion was met with a bright smile. 

“I’m getting up there in the years. An extra set of hands is always needed, and if you want to teach classes on top of that, I’m definitely not complaining.” 

Things just might be starting to turn up after all. 

Surprisingly, Clarke’s first thought was that she couldn’t wait to tell Bellamy. 

And the girls, of course. 

She could wipe the small off her face as she made arrangements to start work later in the week and rushed off to pick up the girls. 

It felt like a turning point, the small victory that she’d desperately needed. 

Clarke hoped the girls felt the same way after their first day of school. 

“How’d it go?” She asked, as her daughters climbed into the backseat. 

“It was good. My teacher is really nice, and she read us a story, and I colored, and I ate pizza,” Madi announced, holding up a small stack of papers. “There’s one of you and one for Bellamy and one for Murphy and one for Jasper and one for Charlotte!” 

And then a drawing appeared beside Clarke’s arm, of the ocean and three tiny stick people. Further off in the distance, was a super small blob on an island. 

It took her a beat to realize that the blob was Finn, and Madi didn’t know what to make of her dad being so far away. Unlike Charlotte, she didn’t understand what divorce meant. 

The imagery of it was a bit heartbreaking, but that was their reality now, and Clarke would have to get used to it. 

She would also have to figure out a way to talk to her about it at some point, but she didn’t want to put a damper on the day. Madi deserved a well thought out and sensitive explanation. 

“It’s beautiful Madi, you did a great job,” Clarke said cheerfully, tucking the paper into her bag before she pulled out of the school parking lot. “What about you, Charlotte?” 

“It was fine. My English teacher is nice, and she gave me a book that she thinks I would like,” she shrugged, staring out the window. “She went to NYU, so I feel like she understands me better than the other teachers do.” 

“Any friends?” 

“No. Some boy asked me to be his girlfriend, though, and I told him I’m not allowed to date till college. So if anyone asks, remember that. I don’t have time for that if I’m going to be a famous playwright one day,” Charlotte said firmly, turning back around to meet Clarke’s eyes in the mirror. 

And the glimmer of determination made Clarke feel a little bit better. Under all the angst, her stubborn, smart daughter was still in there. 

With time and some support from her teachers, perhaps Charlotte would be back to feeling like herself sooner rather than later. 

The drive from the school back to the house was long, and by the time they got home, the girls were already complaining about being hungry. 

It might just have to be another night of pizza, even if it wasn’t exactly a nutritionally balanced meal. 

Clarke was all but ready to call Wells and have him send over a pepperoni pizza, when she was met with the smell of a freshly cooked dinner. 

“Is grandma here?” Charlotte asked, wrinkling her brow as Clarke eased open the door. 

“I don’t see her car,” Clarke shrugged, gesturing the girls inside and helping them hang their backpacks on the hooks. 

But it wasn’t Abby.

Instead, Jasper, Bellamy, and Murphy were all crowded in the kitchen, chopping and stirring and grating. 

“We figured you’d be hungry,” Jasper grinned, handing out lemonades to the girls and a margarita to Clarke. 

And Clarke could’ve cried at the scene. It was so sweet and beyond what she could have ever expected. 

She continued to be amazed at how much could change in a handful of days. 

“You guys are too much,” she chuckled, siding up next to Bellamy as the girls peered into all the sizzling pans. 

Murphy hauled Madi up on his hip and taught her how to stir the pot. 

“It’s what friends are for,” Bellamy shrugged, pausing his chopping to hand her a piece of chicken to taste. “How was your day?” 

And genuinely, Clarke couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked her that, at least someone who seemed like they cared about the answer. 

Once again, she couldn’t help but think how grateful she was to have people to lean on. 

She should probably thank her mother for forcing her into this. 

“I’ll tell you about my day later. But Charlotte can tell you all about hers.” 

Clarke wanted to have an excuse to talk to Bellamy later, to maybe have a chance to pick up where they left off earlier today. Plus, the more her daughter talked, the less likely she was to mope. 

So they both listened as Charlotte told them about the book she was reading and drama club, and the gross lunch at the cafeteria. 

“I liked the lunch,” Madi argued, twisting away from her perch on Murphy’s hip. 

“Of course you liked the lunch. You’ll eat anything.” 

“Not true. I don’t like carrots or string cheese,” she huffed indignantly, like she couldn’t believe her sister had forgotten such an important detail. 

They all chuckled at that, and it filled the kitchen with a warm sense of family, one that Clarke felt like they had been missing for a long time. 

She thought back to Madi’s drawing and the tiny island where Finn sat. Nothing she could do would make Finn suddenly want to take control of his life, and she wasn’t about to let him around the girls in his current mental state. 

If she wanted her kids to have family and warmth and cozy nights like this, she would have to build it herself, and this felt like a pretty good start. 

Clarke didn’t know what she’d been looking for exactly when she came back to Arkadia, other than a free place to live and a good school for her kids. But now, her longing for a town she’d never been particularly fond of made sense. 

She had a community here, one that now included three oddly sweet documentarians. When things get hard, community is what matters most. 

This was exactly where they were supposed to be, and for the first time, Clarke felt like everything might turn out okay after all. 


	2. The way I am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my loves :)

  
Bellamy curled up at the end of the back porch swing, handing Clarke a steaming mug of tea. Somehow this had become their routine. After the girls went to bed, while Murphy was working out and Jasper was messing around on his phone, Bellamy and Clarke watched the stars out on the porch. 

“Excited for your first class tomorrow?” He asked, rocking to the side to push the swing into motion. 

“Mainly just nervous.” 

“You’ll be great, and if you’re not, we can all have ice cream for dinner,” he teased, nudging her thigh with his sock-clad foot. 

“I appreciate the support,” Clarke sighed, letting her hand rest on Bellamy's calf. “But if we talk about this any more, I won’t be able to sleep. Distract me.” 

“Murphy and I are going to scope out a lobster boat tomorrow. But uhh, Jasper isn’t coming because I guess the guy who owns it used to beat him up or something.” 

It took her a minute to think about who he could be talking about. 

“Beat up is a little dramatic,” Clarke snickered, laughter unfurling in her chest as she thought back. “Ontari is a girl, and when we were in middle school, she used to flick Jasper really aggressively on the ear.” 

“You’re kidding. The way he talked about it made it sound like he was near death.” 

“Jasper did not have an easy time in middle school,” She shrugged, keeping the little detail about the goggles to herself, just like she promised. 

Bellamy laughed with her, shifting so that she could stretch out on the swing instead, his feet skimming the ground to rock them back and forth. 

They sat together in companionable silence, listening to the splash of the waves ebbing in the distance and the faint hum of crickets and bugs. 

“I like this town a lot,” he said, taking a deep breath of the crisp evening air. “It’s exactly the kind of place I always saw myself ending up.” 

Clarke didn’t know what to say. It felt odd hearing someone speak about her hometown so fondly, when she had spent her entire childhood plotting ways to run away. But now, as an adult, she could see the appeal of a small sleepy town. Things were safe here, calm and predictable. 

“I kind of agree with you. I never thought I would come back here, but I don’t think I appreciated the stability of Arkadia enough when I was a kid,” she replied, studying Bellamy’s side profile as he stared out at the dark sky. 

She wanted to trace each plane of his face with her finger and then retrace the path with her lips. There was something so magnetic about him, something that made Clarke want to go against every instinct that was telling her to be careful. 

And it wasn’t just his looks. There was more to it than that. Bellamy had a striking warmth, a gentleness that came through in all of his actions in the intention behind his words. 

In the span of a few weeks, he’d become her favorite person to talk to. 

“Where did you grow up?” Clarke asked, wanting to know more about what shaped Bellamy into the person he is. 

“Ton D.C and not the fancy part with all the government buildings,” he said dryly, touching on his childhood and complicated family situation. 

Seeing the slight flicker of doubt on his face as the words left his mouth, a moment where he seemed to question whether this was a conversation he should have left alone, it was the push Clarke needed to close the gap between them. 

She reached out to cup his cheek, like she’d been longing to do since the moment he sat down and gently nudged him to turn in her direction. 

It didn’t feel like the right time to say anything, so she just rubbed her thumb against his cheekbone. 

Bellamy flashed her a soft smile in return, eyes fluttering closed at her touch. 

If Clarke was going to kiss him, now would be the time, but she didn’t want to ruin anything. 

Things were going so well, Madi and Charlotte seemed happier, and most of that was due to the guys. 

If she kissed Bellamy and things went south, it would never be the same. 

Right now, stability came first. 

***

  
In the end, Clarke’s art class had gone off without a hitch. The room was packed, and everyone seemed excited and willing to learn about texture and color mixing. 

There were many familiar faces in the room, older people she recognized from her mother’s card games, and people her age who’d sat next to her in high school English. There were even a few kids whose faces Clarke had seen on Christmas cards that were diligently sent in the mail every year. 

But the face that meant the most was Jasper’s, who’d tucked himself in the back corner of her class and flashed her a friendly smile when she’d started to get overwhelmed. 

He’s taken the time out of his day to support her and even drawn an impressive looking sailboat in the process. 

“I can’t believe you came,” she said, collecting leftover brushes and water cups as Jasper lingered by the sink. “Thank you.” 

“Hey, I painted a pretty decent boat. It’ll look great in my bathroom. Plus, I figured you could use some moral support,” he shrugged, handing her a scrub brush. 

“It means a lot,” Clarke smiled, still a little unsure how she managed to get lucky enough to stumble into a solid group of friends. 

“It wasn’t a totally noble pursuit. I really didn’t want to see Ontari,” Jasper chuckled, tugging at his ear as a reminder. 

“Yeah, Bellamy mentioned that. According to my mother, she’s just as bad as she was in school, so it was a good choice.” 

They talked and gossiped about the people they’d seen from high school today, complained about Ontari. It was nice, and once again, Clarke felt grateful to be back, glad to have so many people who still cared enough to support her. 

Just as the art store returned to its normal state, the bell above the door chimed, and Bellamy, Murphy, Charlotte, and Madi all came pouring in. 

“Mommy!!” Madi exclaimed, waving an armful of balloons from her spot on Bellamy’s hip. “We got these for you!” 

“These too,” Charlotte added, carefully passing a bouquet of flowers into Clarke’s arms. 

The sentiment of it all was enough to bring Clarke to tears. 

Years ago, she’d had a small art piece installed in a gallery. The girls were young, too young to understand or stay up late enough to come to the show. All she’d asked for was an appearance from her husband. And, of course, she’d been disappointed. 

After that, she stopped expecting things from people, stopped hoping that other people would notice her accomplishments. She started to become her own number one fan. 

It wasn’t all bad. It made her independent and strong, things that she’d imparted on her daughters as well. 

But it also left her rather lonely. 

Later, when she’d learned about the alcohol and the affair, Clarke felt stupid for ever thinking things could have been different. 

She blamed herself for ever being so naïve. 

Everything that had happened in the past decade made her hard and jaded, but as she hugged her babies and her new friends, Clarke felt a piece of that hard exterior chip away. 

Maybe relying on people around you didn’t always have to hurt so much. 

Good people, people who cared, came through when you needed them. 

“You did it,” Bellamy murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a tight hug. “You’re officially an art teacher.” 

Clarke flashed him a watery smile, still trying to will herself to not cry over the sweetness of it all. 

With a smile in return, he wiped her eyes with his sleeve, so gently that her eyes barely fluttered closed at the movement and pulled her in even closer. 

He never asked her why she was crying. It was almost like he already knew, and he was trying to tell her that she didn’t have to be so strong anymore. 

And Clarke just sunk into the hug, let him hold her and let herself enjoy the moment as Madi ran in circles around the store with Murphy, and Charlotte carefully inspected Jasper’s painting. 

“How do you feel about ice cream?” She asked, wrapping an arm around Bellamy’s waist to hug him in return. 

“I love it. Especially if there’s pizza beforehand,” he replied, giving her one last squeeze before they unwound from one another. 

At the mention of pizza, the girls cheered, and within minutes they had all closed up the shop and were on their way to see Wells. 

To Clarke’s surprise, Charlotte reached out to take her hand as they walked down the street, flashing a genuine smile before steering her gaze back ahead. 

It was tremendous progress, and for the first time in months, Charlotte seemed like herself again. 

***

  
Arkadia wasn’t nearly as bad as Clarke remembered. As an adult, the quaintness felt much less suffocating, and the familiarity was a comfort instead of an annoyance. 

For the most part, being back had been a great experience. 

But the one thing she hadn’t accounted for was the nosiness. 

“So I hear you and Bellamy have been getting close,” Abby said, mouth tilting up in a sly smile as she sipped her coffee. 

It took all of Clarke’s willpower not to groan out loud. Of course, someone had told her mother about Bellamy—even if there wasn’t much to tell. 

“He lives in my house, mom. Of course, we’re close,” she sighed, covering her face with her coffee cup to avoid giving herself away. 

“Yes, but two other men live in your house as well, and nobody is talking about how cozy you are with Jasper Jordan,” Abby continued, still seeming rather unconvinced. 

“That’s because everyone around here remembers when Jasper got his head stuck in Mrs. Feig’s fence, and they had to call the fire department.” 

“Oh, I forgot about that. The poor woman had to get a whole new fence, and her dog was traumatized.” 

“Yeah, mom, the dog was traumatized,” Clarke chuckled, setting her coffee cup down to retrieve a muffin for her mom. 

Her curiosity had been piqued, though.

Who had seen her with Bellamy? 

And who told her mother about it? 

“Who told you about Bellamy and me anyway?” she asked, unable to resist the urge to find out for sure. 

“Is there a you and Bellamy?” 

“Mom…” 

“Nobody is conspiring for your downfall, honey. Raven just mentioned that you two seemed to be getting along quite well. I just want you to be happy. He seems like a nice man.” 

Most of the time, Clarke liked Wells’ wife, mostly because she made Wells really happy. They’d never been good friends, she’d moved to Arkadia just as Clarke was leaving, but they usually got along. 

But the one thing about Raven that Clarke didn’t like was her obsession with Abby. 

For some reason, she was always trying to get in her good graces—with gossip or baked goods or trips to the club. 

And this seemed to be no exception. 

“I can’t believe she gossiped about me to my own mother…” Clarke sighed, sinking back against the cushions. “Bellamy and I are just friends. Nothing is going on. Raven is just trying to get in your good graces.” 

Abby shrugged but didn’t answer, not seeming particularly convinced by her excuse. 

And it most definitely was an excuse. 

The more time Clarke spent with Bellamy, the more she liked him. 

But the idea of acting on it still scared her, even if it had the potential to be something big.

Maybe that’s why it scared her so much. 

Bellamy wasn’t a casual hookup.

He was the kind of person she could spend her life with, a person who her kids could depend on and that she could turn to when things got hard. 

Once again, Clarke wished she could kick Finn in the face. He’d made her doubtful, scared, and withdrawn. She’d lost her confidence and her trust in men a little bit, and she needed to work on getting it back before she could dive into something new. 

Hopefully, Bellamy would still be there when she was ready. 

“How come you never remarried after dad?” Clarke asked, thinking back to the strange dynamic between her parents, how neither of them had ever moved on after they’d divorced. 

Abby’s eyebrows flew to her hairline, and she choked on her coffee as she registered the words. 

Clearly, it caught her off guard. 

“It’s not the same as you and Finn if that’s what you’re asking,” she said after she recovered.

“Why not?” 

Clarke didn’t know what kind of answer she was looking for, whether it was encouragement or condemnation, but she just wanted someone to tell her what to do. 

“You got screwed over Clarke, badly. But what Finn did was so wrong that you can close that door and leave it alone. There’s no wondering, no lingering, no what if’s. I think that’s what did me in. I always thought that there might be a way for your father and me to work things out. But we never did. I don’t want you to repeat my mistakes, honey, for you to end up by yourself, too old to date—like me.” 

It broke Clarke’s heart a little to hear her mother say something like that. 

“You’re not too old. You look amazing. You’re still fun and cute. If you want to meet somebody, there’s still time,” she began, but Abby placed a hand on her knee before she could finish. 

“What I’m trying to say is...that if a handsome man with a good heart seems to like you, don’t push him away. There’s a difference between not feeling ready and being scared of getting hurt again.” 

The look in her mother’s eyes filled in all the gaps. Abby had never stopped loving Jake. That was the difference. Clarke didn’t love Finn anymore. She hadn’t loved him in a long time. 

Her mother was telling her something that she couldn’t seem to let herself believe...that it was okay to love again, that there was room for another relationship, one that could make her happy. The risk of getting hurt was a part of the process. 

Bellamy was that chance. 

But her mother deserved that chance too. 

She wanted to assure her mom that it wasn’t too late, but Clarke could sense that there was already an overwhelming amount of emotion pulsing through the room. 

They rarely shared moments like this, and if she pushed too hard, it would make it so it would never happen again. 

That conversation would have to wait for another day. 

***

  
Madi stood at the end of a lobster fishing boat with her arms spread, the window blowing her loose curls over her shoulders. 

“Now you gotta say ‘I'm on top of the world’ as loud as you can,” Murphy chuckled, holding her by the shins to keep her steady. 

Of course, she obliged, beaming when the bristled fisherman at the corner of the bow cracked a smile. 

Madi never met a stranger she didn’t like. 

She was never the one that Clarke worried about. 

Charlotte, on the other hand, had shaved a few years off Clarke’s life from stress alone. 

And today was no exception. 

She’d spent the entire morning curled up on a bench at the back of the boat, intensely focused on a small black notebook in her lap. She hadn’t even seemed particularly excited when they’d seen a few fish swimming under the surface. 

After a few weeks of progress, where she seemed happier and more adjusted than ever, it was a cause for slight concern. 

“Is everything okay?” Clarke asked, sitting beside her daughter. “You seem a little distracted.” 

“I’m not distracted. I’m concentrating,” Charlotte corrected, flipping through the pages of her notebook. 

Clarke didn’t want to push her, but she was also very curious about what could possibly hold her daughter’s attention on a Saturday in the middle of a lot of excitement. 

“You don’t have to tell me what it is, but I’d love to know,” she probed, tucking a wispy curl behind Charlotte’s ear. 

“I showed some of my writing to my teacher. You know the one who went to NYU,” Charlotte explained, closing her notebook with a shy smile. “She said there’s a playwriting contest, and she wants me to enter.” 

“Baby, that’s incredible. I’m so excited for you,” Clarke grinned, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “You’re so talented. It’s going to be amazing.” 

“I’m pretty nervous. It’s kind of a big deal. The winning plays are going to be performed at the school open house…”

Clarke wanted to offer help, but she knew that it wasn’t really the kind of support Charlotte wanted. Finn had always been the writer, while Clarke was the artist. Words didn’t come naturally for her.

She’d been dreading something like this, something that would bring Finn’s absence to the forefront. 

“I’m sorry to eavesdrop...but I would love to help if you want. I write all the dialogue for the documentaries,” Bellamy offered, appearing from around the corner, the wind blowing his button-down just enough to expose his collarbone. 

And once again, he swung to the rescue. 

Charlotte lit up like a Christmas tree, springing up with a bright smile to tell Bellamy about her story. 

For a moment, she looked like a little kid, happy and excited...all the brooding exterior fading away. 

Seeing Bellamy flip through the pages and take the time to give Charlotte genuine compliments, his words intentional and kind, made Clarke like him even more. 

***

  
Clarke was drunk—wine drunk, and it felt good. 

This was the first time since the separation that Clarke managed to drink without sobbing uncontrollably on her bathroom floor. 

Her mother had the girls. She had an entire bottle of Chardonnay and nothing to do except paint in her living room without pants on. 

She had her canvas ready, and she was almost through a bottle of wine, when the boys came tumbling through the front door. 

“Clarkey,” Jasper slurred, seeming slightly drunker than she was. “Glad you’re getting in on the fun.” 

He took the bottle of wine from her hand and took a long sip, dancing in a small circle as he handed the bottle back. 

“Yeah, I was going to paint, but uhh, this works too,” she chuckled, taking another sip of the wine and passing it over to Bellamy. 

She was just drunk enough to feel brave, and by the look on his face, he wasn’t totally sober either. 

“We did happy hour at the Salty Clam,” he chuckled, taking a drink and handing it back to her. 

“Rookie mistake...those bloody Mary’s could kill a horse,” she teased, stepping in close enough that she could feel the heat of Bellamy’s body through his thin shirt. “The only person I trust to make my drinks around here is Wells.” 

His hand came to rest on the small of her back, and suddenly, Clarke couldn’t think straight. 

She took another long drink of wine, needing a bit of liquid courage in her system before she said anything else. 

Clarke’s resolve was slowly melting away. She was starting to run out of reasons why she shouldn’t act on her feelings for Bellamy. 

His arm moved to fully wrap around her waist, and she leaned into it, letting herself enjoy the heady feeling that came with the prospect of a new romance. 

Jasper and Murphy broke into a rowdy rendition of a song from Hamilton, standing on top of the couch cushions and using the now-empty wine bottle as a microphone. 

“Come on, Bellamy, you gotta do the part,” Jasper yelled, cupping his hand around his mouth. 

Bellamy blushed deeply, burying his face in Clarke’s hair as he completely avoided the topic of singing. 

“You’re not gonna sing your part?” she chuckled, relishing the warmth of the hug. “I’m dying to know if you’re Angelica or Eliza.” 

“Nah, I think we need more wine,” he said, guiding her away from the karaoke and back into the kitchen. 

The faint sound of singing echoed through the house as the kitchen door swung closed, leaving Clarke and Bellamy alone. 

He reached for the wine rack, looking through the assortment of cheap bottles she’d bought from Target and the expensive ones her mother had left behind. 

“It’s quite the assortment,” she said, hopping up on the counter, so she had a better view as Bellamy contemplated their choices. “I’m partial to the pink one.” 

Sure enough, he pulled out the pink one, analyzing it for a beat before he screwed off the top and handed it to her. 

“Will you do the honors?” He asked, crowding between her legs, his hands coming to rest on her thighs as she took the bottle. 

But instead of drinking, she set the wine behind her. 

Clarke would have stopped herself under any other circumstance, but she just didn’t have it in her right now. 

She was happy and buzzed, and she felt even drunker off Bellamy’s smile and laugh. 

He was just so beautiful and kind—it felt too good to be true after everything she’d been through, but just once, Clarke wanted something good. 

“Or this works too…” Bellamy murmured, his breath sweet with white wine, lips just inches from hers. 

And then he kissed her—really kissed her. His hands digging into her thighs as his lips moved against hers. 

Within minutes, Clarke was on her back on the kitchen counter with her legs wrapped around Bellamy’s waist, and she had never been more content. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this alive, the last time someone made her feel like she couldn’t get enough. 

“How crazy would it be for me to ask you to fuck me on the counter,” Clarke panted, tugging on the hem of Bellamy’s shirt as he mouthed at her neck. 

“I have never wanted to do anything more in my entire life…” Bellamy said, trailing kisses back up to her mouth.”But I don’t think Jasper and Murphy would ever recover from walking in on us having sex.” 

“Jasper wouldn’t, but Murphy would just ask to join,” Clarke chuckled, pulling back just enough that she could meet Bellamy’s eyes. 

“I love how well you know us already. Because that’s completely true,” he grinned, kissing her again and again, until she once again lost her train of thought. 

They made out on top of the counter, until their clothes were strewn around the kitchen floor, and Clarke thought she might explode from the built-up tension. 

“A bed just feels unceremonious,” Bellamy panted, rolling his hips into hers, the outline of his cock just barely pressing against her underwear. 

“No bed,” she agreed, bucking her hips, trying to get at least a little bit of friction.

They went back and forth, suggesting wild places they could have sex, until they finally agreed on the pool. 

It was private, hidden just out of sight by a thatch of trees, and after a day of warming in the sun, the water would be just right. 

But between the kitchen and the pool, Clarke suddenly became nervous and self-conscious. 

“Maybe we should have just gone for the bed,” she said nervously, unhooking her bra once she’d fully submerged herself in the water. 

“Are you uncomfortable? We can totally just—“ Bellamy began keeping a safe distance from her, his voice taking on a level of concern. 

And immediately, her nerves melted away. 

This wasn’t just a one-night stand. Bellamy was the same man who helped her daughter finish her school projects and let Clarke taste his ice cream cones, and who gave her honest critique on her paintings. 

“No, no, this is great. You’re great,” she assured, swimming toward him until they were once again chest to chest. “It’s just been a while since I’ve done this.” 

With a deep, self-assured breath, she took a step in and then another, until Bellamy was within arm’s reach. 

“You’re sure?” He asked, letting his fingers skim over the surface of the water, lingering a few inches away. “Because I’ll wait. As long as you need me to. Or if you don’t want to at all, that’s fine—“ 

And Clarke closed the space between them, cutting him off with a kiss. 

She’d forgotten it could be like this, so simple and sweet. 

For the first time since Clarke was a little girl, she felt butterflies in her stomach, and there was hope in her heart. Hope that maybe she wasn’t doomed to be alone forever, that there were good men, amazing men, out there in the world. 

“I’m sure,” she murmured, against his lips, threading her fingers through his hand as she pulled him in once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure, straight up fluff! Sorry in advance there will be no conflict in this fic. 
> 
> It's been so sweet and relaxing to write this!! 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy, please let me know what you think :) 
> 
> Sending you all so much love, hope you are safe and well.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of [@t100fic4BLM](https://t100fic-for-blm.tumblr.com/) an initiative created to provide fanworks in exchange for donations to BLM-related causes. Proceeds from this donation will be given to the [American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU)](https://www.aclu.org/), an organization dedicated to dismantling systems of inequality for BIPOC in the United States. If you are interested in participating or donating, please check out the links provided above! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little guy, I'm very excited about it and it's been a lot of fun to write so far! It'll probably just be light and sweet with very little drama. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think, I love hearing from you! :) Much love to you, stay healthy, well, and safe.


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